


Meeting you for the first time

by DreamDrop



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Damen and Laurent meet 5 times for the first time, M/M, Meet-Ugly, Tumblr Prompt, at least I think so, but still cute, each one is rather ugly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27524143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamDrop/pseuds/DreamDrop
Summary: Five different possible first-time-meetings for Damen and Laurent. Each one of those is a beginning of their own, they are not interconnected. There is: Being chased by the cops, doing the walk of shame, bashing a book together, breaking and entering, fear of flying.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 50





	Meeting you for the first time

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my dear readers,  
> I posted this on tumblr already, if you're interested in the links to the original posts, you can write me and I'll send you the links. I received the prompts other tumblr users based on this post (https://dreamdropxoxo.tumblr.com/post/634169490454806528/tokiosunset-people-should-do-more-meet-ugly-and).  
> Warning: In prompt 3 there is 50 Shades of Grey bashing. If you love the book, please skip this prompt :)  
> Have fun and let me know what you thought!

**Prompt: You were chased by the cops, got in my car and just yelled ‘Drive!**

Damen didn‘t have a good day. He had just seen his fiancée fuck his own brother. So, this was not his day not at all.

As a result, he shouldn’t have been all that surprised when someone suddenly ripped open the passenger door of his car and yelled, “Drive!”, at him. 

However, he sat there in astonished silence, until the blond yelled again and gestured onto the street. Reacting instinctively, Damen drove onto the road and down to the highway.

“What the fuck?”

The stranger stared at the back mirror, where Damen could now see the blinking lights of police cars.

“What the fuck?!” Now, it was his turn to shout. 

The blond man threw him a glance. “Just drive to the French embassy. They can explain everything and you can state that I forced you to drive me there.”

Damen gaped, not at the man, because he was a responsible driver, but at the street.

“Would you care to elaborate?”

“I was on the run from the police, I needed a ride, you sat there, alone in your car, looking like you had nothing better to do anyway and I took my chance. Fortunately, while you might not be the brightest bulb in the shop, you follow orders exceptionally well with enough insistence.”

Damen sputtered. “Pardon?”

“Yes, as I said, you are not the brightest. But that’s okay, not everybody can be intelligent. But, if you allow me the question, do you even know where the French embassy is?” The man sounded so extremely polite that his insults needed some seconds to register with Damen.

“I know where the embassy is. Yet, what I don’t know is why I shouldn’t just park my car at the side of the road and hand you over to the police.”

“Because it’s just one big misunderstanding and my brother would be rather unhappy if I went to prison in America of all things.”

Damen sighed. “There are so many things wrong with this statement, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Well, a good starting point would be to up the tempo, I know here is a tempo limit, but that doesn’t apply during a chase with the police. Especially if you’re the hostage in said chase.”

“What?!”

“I don’t understand you Americans at all. I mean you have all these action movies with exploding cars, police chases and explosions but you’re utterly useless at the real thing.” The man complained and finally Damen could detect the slightest hint of a French accent.

“You- what?” He made the turn onto the street where the embassy was located and just asked himself how his life had come to this. “I’m dreaming. This can’t be happening.”

“I assure you, you’re not dreaming and I would be immensely grateful if you could postpone your life crisis until we’re at the embassy. Pretty please?”

The man pulled a gun out of a gun-holster under his suit jacket.

“Woah- Damn man! Are you crazy?! Put the thing away?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not loaded. It’s just for deterrence. I need to stage this authentically.”

“You- who are you even?” Damen wanted to know the name of the man for whom he apparently risked his pristine reputation, absolutely unintentionally.

“Oh my, how terribly impolite of me. My name’s Laurent.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Laurent. My name’s Damen. I would have preferred to meet under other circumstances, but well, at least you managed to absolutely surprise me in a day where I thought nothing could surprise me anymore.”

Damen risked one glance at the blond head beside him. What he saw took his breath away. Laurent was astonishingly beautiful and that was despite of the fact that his hair was stuck together with something slimy and he dripped blue color all over Damen’s car seat.

* * *

**Prompt: We met each other on a Sunday morning, both doing our walk of shame.**

Laurent had a headache and bad taste in his mouth when he left the room where he had spent the night before, but the worst thing was certainly the still very present sexual frustration eating away at him. 

He popped a mint into his mouth. At least problem number two could be easily fixed.

He should have known better than to trust a winning smile and charming personality to expand to a good performance in bed. Good looking, charming guys were almost always a disappointment. Just like Jake, James, Justin?, he had no idea what the guy’s name was, had proven.

He just wanted a coffee and to forget that this night had ever happened. 

Laurent went down into the lobby of the expensive hotel. Well, at least the receptionists were professional enough to not ogle him while he made his way out of the building.

Outside he took a deep breath of fresh air, as fresh as the air in the city ever could be, at least. It had been stuffy in Jacob, John, Jeremy’s? bedroom. He was very sure the name had started with J. Actually, that wasn’t important at all. 

He slung his jacket over his shoulder and started marching down the street. It was only three blocks to his apartment and his favorite bakery was just around the corner. 

So, he decided to make a small detour. It was early enough on a Sunday morning that most people were still in their beds or at least in their houses. Laurent looked forward to his own bed, which was blessedly empty of grunting guys who wouldn’t be able to find his prostate even if it had a red, glowing X on it. 

Walking up to the bakery, he was glad to see that there were only few customers inside and most of them looked just as tired as he felt. He had looked into the mirror shortly before leaving and while he had dark circles under his eyes and an impressive scowl fixed on his face, he didn’t look half bad. A bit tousled, but not in an entirely unattractive way. 

He wouldn’t enter the bakery if he looked like the woman before him. Although she looked much more satisfied than he felt. Damn it, maybe if he had been as sexually satisfied as she must have been then he wouldn’t care either about how his hair looked.

“Good morning!” A loud voice behind him exclaimed and half of all the people currently inside the bakery groaned and held their heads. Laurent wasn’t part of this group, he had too much self-control to do more than flinch slightly. 

The young man behind the register, however, grinned brightly. “Damen. Good morning. How are you?”

To Laurent’s absolute astonishment, the greeting was echoed by at least 30% of the room. 

“I’m very well. How are you guys?”

The woman in queue before Laurent turned around to look over his shoulder at the guy standing behind him without a doubt. She had a big grin on her face. “I’m doing great. Good to see you, Damen. What’s the score this time?”

The much too happy and definitively too loud guy hummed noncommittally. “I’d say a seven out of ten? Great blowjob but much too little participation in everything that followed.” He kept his voice low, so that not the whole bakery heard him in contrast to his very obnoxious greeting, but Laurent stood directly there. Between them. 

He couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer. “And that’s still a seven for you? Aren’t your standards pitifully low?” 

The woman burst out into laugher, while she nodded. “That’s true. He’s right Damen. If your description is correct, that’s not worth a seven. Were the last months that despairing?”

The man behind him actually chuckled too. It was a nice sound. Warm, deep and entirely too happy. “Well, to be fair, he had very beautiful blue eyes.”

Laurent finally turned around. And looked up and then some. He was not short by any means, with 5’11’’ but this Damen guy had to be at least 6’6’’.

Damen immediately stopped laughing. Staring at him, as if he was transfixed by what he saw. He was very handsome and he had a dimple. Laurent had a weakness for dimpled, handsome men, even if they were entirely too loud on a Sunday morning at 6:30 in a bakery full of hungover people.

The man opened his mouth and said, “However, he can’t hold a candle to you.” He stared into Laurent’s eyes, as if he was hypnotized. “I’m Damen. Nice to meet you.”

“I figured.” Laurent replied with an arched eyebrow. He had his fill of unsatisfying, good-looking, charming strangers for the day. However, the woman who had talked to Damen before elbowed him lightly. “I’d give him a chance. If he looks at you that way you can expect at least a mind-blowing fuck, most likely even more if that’s on the table for you.”

Laurent turned his gaze away from Damen to look at her. She grinned and ordered her triple espresso with a confidence that was utterly unfitting of her surroundings. When he looked back at the man, he was still staring at him and Laurent allowed himself a little smirk.

“I’m Laurent.”

* * *

**Prompt: You saw me reading the same book you did and we got into a heated discussion on how much it sucks.**

Damen was slightly shocked by the content of the book he had purchased some hours ago. A startled laugh slipped over his lips when he continued reading. 

“And I thought I was the only person stupid enough to read this book in public, or at all for that matter,” a melodic voice sounded from beside him. He looked up. 

The man before him was stunning and completely out of place in the arrival hall of international flights. He should be on a cover page of a fashion magazine or on a TV screen but not here in this dingy place full of tired and bored people.

Damen looked down and saw him hold the same book in his hands. “Apparently not, although I really start to question myself.” Because he really doubted he wanted to read even one sentence more. “I’m Damen, by the way.”

“I’m Laurent and I don’t recommend it. It gets only worse from there. I am on page 417 and I want to bleach my eyes and be obliviated to forget the horrors.” He sat down with a seat between them and threw the paperback down on the free seat. 

He was _really_ gorgeous. His blond hair was slightly tousled, in a very stylish manner, he wore tight, black trousers and a dark blue button down. His eyes were the most piercing blue Damen had ever seen and his face- Damen didn’t think he had the words to describe the utter beauty of it.

“I appreciate the Harry Potter reference,” Damen laughed and placed the book down too. The silver tie utterly misleading of the content. “Why did you start with the book?”

“It was a bet between my brother and me. He bet I couldn’t finish it, while I bet against him. I think I’ll just buy him the stupid pink unicorn for his damn fore-garden. I can’t stand this even one word longer.” Laurent sounded utterly defeated.

“I could try to finish it and then update you on what horrible scenarios are coming up.”

“That would be cheating.” Laurent smirked and Damen couldn’t look away.

“Well, yes. That’s true.”

“I won’t cheat my brother. He won the pink unicorn fair and square. I can’t get over the sentence ‘Desire pools dark and deadly in my groin.’ I think I can never unsee that one. It wasn’t worth it to try and save my brother’s last sliver of self-respect.” Laurent’s eyes sparkled with a teasing edge.

Damen couldn’t believe that this sentence could somehow turn sexy, but he was tempted to reconsider. “Stop it, the worst scene up until now was the one with the doctor, where Christian tells her her body belongs to him and she doesn’t get to make the decision about her own health. How he dictates her contraception. What sick sense of togetherness should this convey?”

“That one was definitively terrible. What I thought was even worse is the way he starts spanking her without establishing her boundaries or ground rules for her own safety. That’s not how a responsible dominant treats their partner. They don’t have a reliable communication channel in place and in he jumps and takes her with him.” Laurent grimaced. “The more I think about it the sicker it makes me.”

Damen nodded slowly. This sounded very much as if Laurent had more intimate experience with BDSM. “So, you sound rather knowledgeable, about the BDSM?” He asked tentatively. Laurent returned his gaze evenly.

“Yes, you could say that.”

Damen was surprised how fast he felt lightheaded at that and low-key aroused. Well, if he was completely honest, it wasn’t so low-key anymore. He felt his curiosity spike. “Would it be terribly forward of me to ask you about it? I mean, I’m here, waiting for my brother and you don’t seem to be in a hurry and we both read that horrible book for the last hours and I need things to be put into perspective.”

Laurent crooked one eyebrow. “If you want to talk about sex with a stranger you only met fifteen minutes ago, then I say go for it. I’m certainly not too shy to answer your questions. Education is very important after all.”

“What’s your favorite color?” The question burst out of Damen without a moment to reconsider. He wanted to slap himself.

“That’s quite the change of topic.” The blond man sounded deadpan but the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Well, I thought, if I knew your name and your favorite color, you wouldn’t be a stranger anymore. You could give me your number and then we would be acquaintances, at least.” He tried to explain. This got a real smile out of Laurent.

“If you reason like that, I can’t disagree anymore, can I? It’s blue, I have a dog named Attila and my last name is deVere. I have personal experience in BDSM and one older brother whom I should pick up at the airport today. Whereas his flight got delayed and I’m sitting here since over four hours.”

Damen felt himself flush. He didn’t know why, but something about Laurent flustered him beyond just attraction. “Nice to meet you, Laurent deVere. I’m Damianos Akielos, short Damen, my favorite color would be red, I have a cat and I’m waiting for my brother too, whose flight got delayed as well. I’m here since two hours ago because I ran terribly late.” 

He didn’t know how to tactfully ask about the topic, so he took the approach he took with most things, honest and straightforward. It failed him very rarely. 

“So, how would a responsible dominant treat their partner?” He felt his cheeks warm even further at his question, but even though he was embarrassed beyond words he couldn’t look away from the levelheaded stare of Laurent’s blue blue eyes.

* * *

**Prompt: You broke into my apartment drunk thinking it was your friend’s house and I should call the cops but my cat kinda likes you so we’re good.**

Laurent sighed. It was so early in the morning it could still be counted as the night and he finally got home from his business trip. Auguste would be asleep, so he had nobody to call about his save arrival. He sent his brother a message just as he opened the door to his apartment.

He was tired, filthy and thirsty. Traveling for work wasn’t as exciting as one would think and he, Laurent deVere, had enough of it. However, as apparently all other people decided to leave their brains at home when they left for work, he had no choice but to go on the trips himself.

Thus, not a whole lot of things could surprise Laurent anymore. Actually, he thought himself pretty resistant to surprise. Always assume the worst, because most of the time people manage to rush straight into that scenario, was what he had learned early on in his career as IT-project manager for his company. It was a bit as if common sense was a foreign term to most people.

Yet, when he entered his apartment after one week of absence at 5 in the morning and heard snores, he had to admit that he was at least slightly surprised. Because one thing you had to know about Laurent deVere was that he was painfully single and that for years. There should be nobody sleeping in his apartment. Not since Auguste had texted him at 11 PM to inform him that he was going to meet up with some of his friends, but that he had fed Raziel and aired the whole place for at least 15 minutes because Laurent was particular like that.

“What the-?” 

In hindsight Laurent had to admit that he was considerably more than just ‘slightly’ surprised, because he didn’t even think about the dangers that this situation could pose. He didn’t know the person snoring in his living room, that was for certain, and yet, he didn’t hesitate as he walked straight into the room and flickered on the light switch.

On his sofa slept a beast, there were no other words to describe it- him. It was definitively a him, a beast of a him. 

The guy lay on his stomach on Laurent’s expensive and, to be honest, gigantic couch, one arm dangling over the edge, the other shoved under the throw pillow he had his face pressed into. 

What was even more surprising was that Laurent’s cat, Raziel, who gave most people the cold shoulder, except for Auguste and Laurent, was curled into his side. 

The man had one hand still buried in the soft fur of the Bengal cat, as if he was petting him before falling asleep. 

However, what crowned it all, was that the man wore _no shirt_. The rippling muscles of his back and arms on blatant display and for a moment, Laurent felt a bit faint. 

Nobody could judge him for that moment of weakness because one, nobody was here, and two, this was probably the most gorgeous back he had ever seen in his 27 years of life.

Raziel blinked at him and when Laurent returned the gaze, the tomcat yawned and snuggled closer to the man’s naked side. He couldn’t even feel properly betrayed, because this was a very nice place to snuggle up to.

Stop. He needed to stop. He was tired and his brain absolutely overwhelmed with trying to process the absurdity of this situation. With a shake of his head, he turned towards his kitchen. Auguste had gone shopping for him, so he had everything at home to make breakfast. He could deal with the stranger in his living room later on. If Raziel liked him, he couldn’t be that bad of a person, could he?

He finished cooking breakfast and was on his second cup of coffee, when he heard a groan from the living room.

“Damn, ouch my head. Fuck.” The stranger had a nice voice, although it was a bit raspy and hoarse. Laurent suspected that could be attributed to the hangover the poor guy most likely had. He poured a glass of water, took a painkiller and went to the living room. 

The man had turned onto his back and his front was just as appealing as his back was. Laurent spent some moment’s staring.

“This isn’t Nik’s ceiling. But this should be Nik’s ceiling.”

Suddenly, everything made sense. At least, if said Nik was the same Nik as Nikandros, Laurent’s neighbor to his left. 

“I’m sorry to break it to you, however, Nik’s apartment would be beside this one,” he said and enjoyed the panicked reaction of the stranger. The man shot up, whirled around and then immediately held his head. “Fuck.”

“Here. It’s water and a painkiller.”

Damen stared at him before taking the painkiller and gulping down the water. “Good morning. Terribly sorry for this. I thought your apartment was the one of Nikandros, my friend. I’m no creep who wanted to stalk you or something. I’m Damen, by the way.”

“Well, if you were, I’d have to inform you that you’re really not discreet. I’m Laurent.” Laurent’s gaze dropped down to Damen’s toned chest. Before reminding himself that the man had broken into his apartment just the night before.

“How did you get in here?”

“The window? Nik always leaves it open and so do you apparently. Really sorry. I was rather drunk.”

Laurent shook his head with a smirk and reminded himself to tell Auguste to close the window properly next time. “I figured. Well then, there is breakfast if you want. I just finished before you woke up. Or you could go to Nik’s straightaway. Whatever you prefer. But I may have overdone it a bit in order to cope with finding a half-naked stranger passed out on my couch with my cat cuddled up to his side.”

Damen stared at him. “I can’t say I wouldn’t want to intrude on your privacy because I clearly already did. But are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind as long as you promise to not kill me while I provide you with breakfast.”

“I promise. I further promise to not murder you even after that.” He looked around with big eyes and then went back to staring at him.

Laurent threw him a smirk and turned around to go into the kitchen. “Well then, Damen, follow me, I can give you a tour later.”

* * *

**Prompt: This is a five-hour-long plane ride, we’re sitting together and you’re deathly afraid of flying.**

Damen hated flying. Normally, this didn’t really bother him. He could visit places by train or with his car or even by ship. He didn’t need to fly to reach his destinations. 

So, he wasn’t really confronted with the terrifying thought of being confined into a metallic chamber, miles above ground, going at a speed that was simply insane and, the worst of it, placing his well-being in the hands of another person, a stranger essentially, who could have a death wish and kill them all. 

_‘Don’t think about it, Vallis, don’t think about it.’_ Easier thought than done. He was terrified and he just wanted to get out. However, this was his best friends idea and he would never let him down. Not since the one time where he had forgotten to bring home his favorite pistachio ice and Auguste had looked so disappointed. 

Auguste had organized a trip for their whole friend group and their families to celebrate the sky rocketed increase in value the stock of his start-up had experienced half a year ago. Thanks to a product improvement his little brother had come up with.

Laurent, said younger brother, was a mystery to Damen. He had never met him, because Laurent normally jetted around the world for his job, never sat still and was one of the most sought after business consultants in the world. Auguste spent all the time he got with his little brother in their own brother. He once explained to Damen that he had to share his brother with the world all the time and didn’t want to share him in their sparse family-time too.

Damen understood. However, that didn’t keep him from being curious. He would get to meet Laurent on this trip, at least that was what Auguste had told him, because his little brother took the first vacation in three years and accompanied them. Actually, he should even get on the same flight as Damen, who had decided against flying with his friends, because that would be too much pressure on him to be cheerful and pretending to not be as terrified as he actually was. 

The flight- His stomach almost turned. His hands were cold as ice. He closed his eyes and tried to breath deep and long. It didn’t really work, but at least he could concentrate on something different. Like the feeling of being choked right there in his seat. 

This was very inconvenient. He just wanted to stay on the ground forever, why did Auguste have to chose Hawaii of all places? Damn him. If Damen didn’t love him as much as he did he would have flat out refused to go.

“Are you Damianos?” A pleasant voice asked him. He forced his eyes open, his head to turn and saw- a vision of a man. He was sure his jaw would have hit the floor if he didn’t have his teeth clenched so hard it almost hurt.

Slowly, he nodded. 

“I’m Laurent. Auguste already told me you were afraid of flying.”

Damen could only manage another nod. He was terrified and not even the prospect of spending the next five and something hours in the company of this man could calm him down. Laurent sat down in the free seat at Damen’s right. 

“Well, this situation is certainly not optimal. I imagined my first time meeting you would be in a less stressful environment for you. Auguste tells me you’re quite charming normally.” 

Laurent observed him with something like academic curiosity. As if Damen was a wild animal displaying a very particular pattern of behavior. It would have been amusing if Damen wasn’t too preoccupied with reminding himself that the outcome of this flight wasn’t necessary death. 

“I read up on fear of flying before getting on this plane. So, apparently it helps to get all the facts about your possibility of dying. Did you know that the probability of dying in a plane crash is one in eleven millions?” 

Laurent still observed him and Damen felt himself compelled to react somehow. So, he shook his head.

“That might not mean much to you without context. I always forget that most people aren’t really good with numbers. Let’s think about it like that. Your likelihood of dying on this flight is one in eleven millions. Your likelihood of being struck down by lightning is much higher, it’s one in 1.2 million-”

Damen listened to Laurent talking. It was actually calming and a big part of that could be attributed to Laurent’s absolute calmness while he talked about the different ways to perish. His hands moved and Damen was utterly fascinated by them. Even forgetting how terrifying it was to be here.

Right when he thought that, the plane started to move. He wanted to vomit. Laurent took one of his hands and squeezed. “I’m right here. Nothing bad will happen to you.”

When they were in the air, Damen finally managed to say something, not because he had relaxed, but because he _needed_ to hear Laurent’s voice again. “How many times did you already board a plane?”

The blond man still watched him closely. “Oh, I’ve lost count to be honest. I’m one of these people who should cease to exist in regard to climate politics.” He shrugged and Damen stared at him. Could he please just continue talking?

Something must have shown on his face because Laurent’s blue eyes got a fraction softer and he opened his mouth again. “I have a book with me. Would you like me to read to you?”

Damen nodded fervently. Maybe he would survive this trip after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know which one was your favorite <3


End file.
